The Secret Lights
by mallyrn
Summary: The hope of Fingolfin's people was nearly spent, and their journey hadn't even begun. Before them lay the Helcaraxe, and behind them was certain death. Meanwhile, Feanor's sons despaired for their father's mind, and their peoples' safety. It was no coincidence that two mysterious, pale-haired strangers were sent to Arda on this same day.
1. introduction

Hi guys! It's mallyrn. Even though I've already posted two chapters, I thought I'd make an introduction to explain some things a little better.

Well, here goes!

1\. This is the first part of a series I thought up last year and never got around to writing. Basically, it's a Homestuck-Tolkien's Legendarium crossover. I think I'll call it… _the Tolkienstuck Legendarium_.

2\. All Homestuck characters present in this story start off somewhere in their late 20's-early 30's, and due to some shenanigans that I have yet to create an explanation for, they became elves upon entering the Tolkien universe. This trend will continue in later stories, although they won't always become _elves_, specifically.

3\. Some of my interpretations of god-tier abilities may be kind of different from original canon, and also the headcanons of others. _This is okay. You'll live_. Canon doesn't really give us much material to work with, and headcanons aren't canon in the first place. They tend to be nice ideas, but still. They are not canon. It doesn't really matter.

4\. Taking a page from the illustrious Dr. Matthattan's book, I will not give out any major spoilers. I will, however, occasionally make vague references to future happenings and call them spoilers. No offense to Dr. Matt, he's my crossover fanfiction hero!

5\. SPOILER ONE: This story will contain various references to the events of the Epilogues and HS^2, mostly in the form of easter eggs, but one _certain character_ will be going through some _very specific_ changes having to do with identity. Ahem. :3c

Have a nice day, and happy reading! Well, as happy as one can be while reading anything that has to do with The Silmarillion. *sigh*

\- mallyrn


	2. prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Homestuck or Tolkien Enterprises, and I am not making money off of this work.

I had the idea for this a long time ago, before 'You Don't Have To Be Alone' was ever something I'd think of writing. In fact, Captain Marvel hadn't come out yet when this was conceived. So, YDHTBA is gonna be considered less of a priority than this, due to the fact that I don't have ideas for it at the time being.

I am using the character's Quenya names for now, as they would not have even heard of the Sindarin language at this point.

Edit: distressed sobbing at 2 AM as I realize that I switched Fingolfin and Finarfin's quenya names, I'm so so so sorry! Auuuugh!

Well, I hope you enjoy it, guys!

* * *

Findekano bit his lip, and turned his back on the west, telling himself not to look back. His hands trembled from fear and exhaustion. He could see his brother Turukano, standing a few feet away, holding his wife and daughter with an expression of terror. Findekano, though unmarried, understood perfectly - this was no place to raise a family.

The Grinding Ice loomed above, stern and unwelcoming.

"We'll have to cross it," Nolofinwë said softly. His father turned and looked Findekano in the eyes. _He's just as frightened as any of us. _The thought shook his resolve, and he wanted to fling himself into his father's embrace and weep, like a small child.

The blood roared in his ears. His father had turned towards the remaining Noldor, and was making a speech of some sort, but Findekano ignored it. _Maitimo burned those ships._ His cousin had betrayed them – betrayed _him_.

A flash of pinkish light off the path ahead of them drew his attention, and he wondered what it could possibly be.

* * *

Roxy's eyes fluttered open to a clear blue sky. She stared upwards for a while, then blinked twice, confused. _Where am I?_

Suddenly, she heard voices – _a lot of them, more than one hundred,_ she guesstimated in her possibly inebriated state. _No, I'm not drunk. I quit drinking years ago._ The memory of the past hour flooded suddenly into her brain, and she sat up quickly.

"Oww," she groaned, head swimming. She must've hit it on something – _damn_, that hurts. Her hair was curling again, springing forth from its artificially straightened state, and she scowled. She'd never liked her curly hair, often looking enviously at her mother's silky, curl-free locks. She'd wanted her own hair to do the same thing, but could never get it to stay for any length of time. Hence, the little flip at the end of her hair, which she'd incorporated into her trademark style.

She and Rose had been messing around with magic to try and make a few improvements to the transportalizers, when something had gone wrong. Roxy had felt a sudden tug on the space around them as they'd tested the machine, and then she'd been blinded by a haze of pink, purple, and green. And now she was here… wherever _here_ was.

By now, the voices had started to get on her nerves. She blinked a few times against the light of several hundred torches, wondering where she was and what in the world was happening.

A sharp, metallic object pressed suddenly against her throat. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" An unfamiliar voice demanded. Roxy tilted her head up as much as she could, trying to get a glimpse of her attacker, and unwilling to use her Void powers before absolutely necessary.

A young man with long, braided dark hair and gray eyes stared down at her with a stern, yet haunted expression. There were golden ribbons woven into his braids, and much to Roxy's surprise, his ears were pointed. He held an elegant sword, which he jabbed closer to her throat. "Answer me!"

Roxy yelped indignantly. "Sheesh, okay okay! My name's Roxy Lalonde, and I have no freaking idea what I'm doing here! I just kinda woke up with a splitting headache, so could'ya please quiet down!?" The man's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he sheathed his sword anyway.

"You speak strangely," he commented, "and you do not seem like a spy from the Enemy." A wry grin splits across his youthful face. "A spy would have a better cover story, for one thing."

Before Roxy had a chance to be offended by his observations, he offered her a hand. "Well met, Lady Lalonde! Findekano, son of Nolofinwë, pleased to make your acquaintance!" Roxy took his hand, and he helped her up.

"Thanks," Roxy said awkwardly. Her headache was already feeling a little better, so she decided she was able to ask some important questions. "Um, why are your ears pointed?" Yeah, maybe not _important_ questions…

Findekano blinked at her, looking concerned. "I am one of the Quendi," he told her, "Just as you are... although, I have never seen one of us with pink eyes before…"

_Quendi?_ Roxy had no idea what he was talking about. Her bemusement must have shown on her face, because Findekano put a hand on her shoulder and gently led her to a puddle of clear water, a yard or two away. "Look," he said softly.

Roxy peered at her own reflection, and suppressed a gasp.

For some inexplicable reason, her ears were pointed, too. _What exactly is this place?_ She wondered, and her headache returned full force.

* * *

Maitimo tore his eyes away from the burning ships, his heart heavy.

There would be no help for Nolofinwë and his people, and Fëanaro was hellbent on retrieving the Silmarils. For the first time, Maitimo regretted swearing the oath with his father.

On the other hand, his younger brothers looked eager to follow their father through whatever madness lay ahead. With a sharp pang of dread, he realized that this oath could lead any one of them to their deaths. Maitimo squeezed his eyes shut against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

His brothers needed him, now more than ever.

When finally he opened his eyes, a sudden blaze of purple light on the shore caught his interest. Kanafinwë grabbed his shoulder and exclaimed, "Nelyo, what was that?" Tyelko and the Ambarussa turned to look, also.

When the light faded, Maitimo blinked in astonishment at what he saw.

Standing on the shore, looking disoriented, was a pale elf-woman with violet eyes.

* * *

The first thing that Rose saw when her eyes decided to work again, was an abnormally tall man with red hair, staring at her in shock.

Her needle-wands were still in her hands – just as they had been before she was engulfed in purple magicks and whisked away from her home. The man started to come closer, so she raised her wands threateningly. "Stay back!" She commanded him, and to her relief, his forward movement stopped.

The tall man held out his hands in a calming gesture. "I will not hurt you, nor will my brothers," he said, and Rose finally noticed the six other men gathered behind him, their expressions ranging from surprised to hostile. A dark-haired figure shifted closer to the tall one, whispering, "Nelyo, I do not think she is friendly."

Rose snorted. "You don't want to see me when I'm _really_ unfriendly. Trust me." The tall redhead waved his brother away, looking annoyed. "Kano, you're make things worse," he reprimanded, but 'Kano' just scowled.

"I apologize for my brother," the redhead told Rose, turning away from the dark-haired man with a tiny frown. "We come from over the sea, and have had no prior experience with these lands. My mother-name is Maitimo," he added, "And this is Kanafinwë. What should we call you?"

Rose wasn't sure what a 'mother-name' was supposed to be. She decided it didn't apply to her. "My name is Rose Lalonde," she told them, lowering the needle-wands. "I am not from around here, either. I suppose we could learn about this new land together?"

Behind Maitimo, Kanafinwë's eyes narrowed. Without looking at him, Maitimo said, "She's right, brother. I believe we can all help one another." He gave Rose a respectful nod, finally letting his hands drop. "Your name is strange, for one of the Quendi," he observed. Rose frowned. "Quendi?" she repeated, then suddenly noticed that their ears weren't round, like a human's. Instead, they were pointed.

Maitimo frowned, too. "I believe we're also called 'Elves.'" Rose would've laughed, had multiple visions not prodded at the back of her consciousness.

She let out a short cry of pain as the images violently invaded her mind.

_She saw Roxy, facing down a lumbering bi-pedal creature covered in white fur. The massive thing roared a challenge, but Roxy didn't flinch._

_A different dark-haired elf, bending down to let another elf place an intricate golden crown on his head._

_Maitimo, his face pale and scarred, staring down at the stump of his right hand._

_An elf-woman with silky raven hair, grieving over the body of a human man. She looked up at Rose, who was suddenly aware that she was standing in a forest clearing. "Arhael," the elf sobbed, "Please, save him!"_

_Finally, she saw herself, sitting with Maitimo on his bed, and holding him as he trembled with fear. "Maedhros," she heard herself say, "It's alright. They cannot hurt you now." With a jolt of surprise, she saw that her ears, which were supposed to be round, were delicately pointed instead, like an elf's._

"Rose?" Maitimo's voice brought her back to the present. He stood over her, concern in his gray eyes, and she realized that she must have fallen down.

He helped her sit up. "That looked like quite a vision," he said softly. "I've never known one with foresight to fall down when seeing the future. What did you see?"

Rose met his gaze, wondering for a moment what horrors were in store for her and her new companions. "Many things," she responded, equally quiet. "Things that I don't understand. But I do know that things won't ever be the same again."

She and Maitimo sat in silence, staring at one another with a shared sense of dread. _What have I got myself into?_ She wondered, studying his gray eyes and wishing she could prevent his fate.


	3. chapter one - fear of the future

**Chapter One: Fear of the Future**

"_What_ is going on here?"

The seven brothers all leapt to their feet, excluding Maitimo, who took Rose by the hands and tugged her up with him. His expression put the Seer on edge, and more half-formed visions flailed about in the confines of her skull. This time, she was able to keep them at bay.

Her new companions stood at attention like soldiers in the presence of an especially strict drill sergeant. Their eyes were fixed straight ahead, and the source of the loud, angry voice paced forward, glaring at them balefully.

His hair was as black as the desolate Furthest Ring, and his expression was just as unforgiving. There was a dark red substance splattered across the front of his ornately decorated robes, and Rose realized that it was blood. Even more frightening was the fact that he seemed to hold light inside of him – but it was nothing like Rose's when she was filled with her aspect, or Kanaya's pale rainbow-drinker glow. No, his was like a roaring, destructive fire, pent-up and waiting to lash out at the first thing that crossed its path.

Just looking at him made the visions press harder and more insistently, and she massaged her temples against the migraine-like sensation.

The fiery elf tapped his foot against the ground, which added to his menace in a way that might've been comical if not for the rusty-red gore staining his clothes. "Will _nobody_ answer my question?" he snapped impatiently. Poor Kanafinwë's shock subsided, and he caved in to the newcomer's demands. "We found this woman, Atar," he explained hurriedly. "We do not know from whence she came, only that her name is 'Rose,' and that she has strong foresight."

Rose glared at him. "I can speak for myself, you know," the Seer insisted, then spun on her heel to face the menacing older elf. How she could tell that he was older was a mystery – she just could.

"I am Rose Lalonde, the Seer of Light," she told him, watching as his eyes narrowed in a mixture of distaste and confusion. "To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" Her words were polite, but her tone was cold and analytical.

The elf blinked, then responded in a similar tone. "I am Fëanaro, son of Finwë."

Rose offered Fëanaro a small nod of acknowledgement. "Well then, I do hope we are able to cooperate, as I foresee it would be in our best interests if I were to accompany you." A prophetic whisper vibrated through her being – the words rattled around in her mind, getting louder and louder until she couldn't keep the visions back any longer.

They were even more jumbled and violent than the last ones.

_A harbor city, stained red with the blood of innocents. Fëanaro, and the seven brothers stood near a pile of corpses, swords drawn, expressions ranging from stoic to anguished._

"_Beware the draw of glory and fame,"_ she whispered, in a voice not entirely her own. Fëanaro's eyes widened.

_A rocky slope, stained even redder than the harbor she'd just seen, where Elves battled with terrible creatures that resembled zombies, at least to her. Looming above the chaos were five demonic creatures with bat-wings and curled horns, wielding fiery swords and whips. The largest of them held Fëanaro around the middle, roaring triumphantly as it all but snapped him in half._

"_Beware the Lord of Shadow and Flame…"_ Rose heard Maitimo calling her name as if from a distance, and she was faintly aware of her legs shaking, threatening to give out yet again.

_A being of pure darkness, fixing three luminous white gems into a crown of dark iron._

"_Beware the treasures for which you fight… but seek for the banner of the Secret Lights."_

Rose's knees hit the ground suddenly, jarring her back into the present. _Some of these things have already happened,_ she mused, staring at the blood on Fëanaro's robes. _The battle at the harbor city, for instance._ Dread shivered through her as she remembered the fire-demons' loud cheering as their leader made his kill, and the snap of bone rang through her subconscious once again.

Maitimo and his brothers were silent, as was Fëanaro. "…What does that mean?" the older elf asked slowly. Rose felt a flash of irritation.

"How should I know? Prophecies don't tend to reveal their meaning until…" _Until it's too late,_ her mind muttered rebelliously. "Until it's truly relevant," she said aloud. Fëanaro scowled.

Maitimo shifted uncomfortably. "Atar, we should let her come with us. She won't be alone, and maybe she can help us." Yet again, he took both Rose's hands and pulled her to her feet, keeping her steady as she swayed in exhaustion.

One of the brothers noted this worriedly. "We should find somewhere to make camp, before she collapses," he commented, then caught her eye. His face seemed perpetually flushed, she noted, as he sent her a wry smile. "No offense, my lady," he added with a shrug. "I'm Carnistir, by the way."

She mirrored his expression. "None taken." He looked like he was about to laugh, then caught Fëanaro's eye and immediately sobered.

A pale-haired elf broke away from the others and stood beside her. "I'll keep an eye out for her, Nelyo, if you want to have a talk with Atar," he promised Maitimo. Rose frowned, confused as to why he called his brother by a different name than the one he'd given her. She then recalled Maitimo saying something about a 'mother-name,' and wondered if this had something to do with it. She was so deep in thought, that she didn't even react to being treated as if she couldn't look after herself.

The pale-haired brother nudged her gently, breaking her from her reverie. "I apologize for our father," said in an undertone, watching Fëanaro as he stormed away with Maitimo and Kanafinwë trailing behind. "He's famous for his bluntness, and his temper." _So, he's their father,_ Rose thought quietly. Well, that was one mystery solved.

Out loud, she responded, "I can see that." The elf snorted.

"I'm Tyelkormo," he introduced himself. Pointing to the three brothers whose names she didn't know yet, he added, "The one who looks like Atar is Curufinwë, which, ironically enough, is also Atar's father-name. The Twins are called Pityafinwë and Telufinwë. You can tell them apart by the fact that Pityo has darker red hair." He gestured in turn to a raven-haired elf with a bored expression, and two younger elves with mischievous green eyes and, as Tyelkormo had mentioned, red hair. One of them had multiple dark auburn braids, and the other's hair was done up in a single, fiery ginger braid down his back.

"Their hairstyles are different, too," Rose said helpfully. Tyelkormo hid a smile. "Not always," he explained. "I had to convince them to do it differently, to help with identification a little more."

Nearby, the bored-looking elf snapped, "Only because you're the least intelligent of us, Tyelko."

Rose glanced at Tyelkormo, half-expecting him to rage at his brother, but he just smiled in a way that was both friendly and menacing. "Thanks, Curvo! I can always count on you to ruin an already terrible mood and drag your poor brothers with you into the pits of teenage despair." Curufinwë glared at him, while Carnistir and the twins snickered in the background.

"Tyelko, _I'm_ married," he pointed out in biting tones. Tyelkormo rolled his eyes. "And look how well _that_ turned out," he muttered. His brother's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to deliver a nasty retort, when Rose interjected.

"Look, this sibling rivalry business is cute and all, but I seem to remember someone suggesting you make camp before your guest collapses in a dramatic swoon, leaving one of you to step up and carry me, bridal-style, like a fairy-tale protagonist saving a damsel in distress from the nonsensical banter of his vaguely irritating brothers. Frankly, I'd prefer to avoid such an unfavorable outcome."

All five of them stared at her for a long moment. Then the twins burst out laughing. "I like this one!" The darker-haired one – Pityafinwë – told his younger twin, who nodded enthusiastically. Curufinwë rolled his eyes, but Rose got the feeling that he was more impressed than he let on.

Tyelkormo chuckled, having been outdone in enough contests of word-play to shrug it off and move on. "Alright then, Rose," he said with a smile, "Let's get you settled before I have to arm-wrestle Carnistir to decide who gets to carry you." At his brother's teasing, Carnistir's complexion went from light pink to glowing crimson in a heartbeat, and she had to suppress the amused smile that wanted to escape onto her face.

* * *

Roxy stayed near Findekano's side, unsure of what to do as he led her past the suspicious stares and open curiosity of his people. Having grown up alone, she felt uncomfortable with large crowds, but this was something else entirely.

Her new friend had tried to explain about the Quendi - otherwise known as elves - in an attempt to jog her memory, having no idea that before today, Roxy hadn't even been an elf. She'd thought it best not to tell him, deciding that he seemed worried enough, without learning that there's possibly a whole different universe beside his own.

"Atar," Findekano called suddenly, quickening his pace, and Roxy caught sight of another elf who looked a lot like him. "Atar, this is Roxy, or, that is how she introduced herself, at least," Findekano introduced her when they came level to the other elf. His gray gaze studied Roxy's face, no doubt noting her bright pink eyes, and the faint, smudged remains of dark lipstick on her mouth.

"I found her some ways ahead," Findekano continued. "She was very disoriented, and she seems to have forgotten that she's an elf." Roxy barely held back her protests at this statement. The older elf's expression changed, becoming concerned. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on Roxy's shoulder.

For a moment, he studied her features again, as if trying to see past her face and into her mind. Roxy knew that, if he did have some sort of mystical mind-reading powers, he wouldn't be able to see anything, due to her being a Hero of Void.

"Do you feel alright, young one?" The older elf voiced the question slowly, as if speaking to a very young child. Roxy stared at him.

"Yeah. I feel fine," she told him. He frowned a little. "Um, are you gonna tell me your name?" she continued hesitantly, when he didn't respond.

He sighed quietly, but he didn't seem to be upset with her. "Where are my manners? I am called Nolofinwë," he told her, drawing his hand away to wave someone over. "Findekano is my son."

"Yes, Uncle?" A new voice inquired, this one soft and feminine, yet strangely deep. As Roxy turned, Arafinwë said, "Artanis, would you please keep our guest company until Findekano tracks down the healers? I'm afraid she is very disoriented." The newcomer - a tall woman with luminous golden hair and gray-blue eyes - nodded assent, then turned her full attention onto Roxy, who jumped, startled by the sudden intensity. _Is this how she looks at everyone?_

"I am Artanis," the woman introduced herself, taking Roxy by the arm. The Rogue blinked several times. "Uh. I'm Roxy Lalonde," she responded, allowing Artanis to pull her away. Behind them, she heard Nolofinwë sigh, and mutter, "If only my niece could be a bit more _gentle_ with our guest..." Suppressing an amused snort, Roxy turned her focus onto Artanis, who was explaining something about ships, and someone who apparently had seven sons. She nodded, pretending to be paying attention, when in reality, she was wondering, yet again, what in the _absolute heck_ was going on around here.

* * *

Findekano watched as his cousin dragged Roxy off, lingering for just a moment to make sure Artanis wasn't overwhelming her, before turning to his father.

"I'm worried about her," he confided softly. "She isn't a spy - that I'm sure of, although I do not know why, exactly - but she seems convinced that she isn't an elf, and has never heard of the Quendi before. And none of that serves as an explanation to the strange light I saw, before I found her."

His father frowned. "What sort of light?"

* * *

Holy mackerel, I think this is the longest thing I've written all at once, ever... 2,080 words... *wheezes*

I know it looks as if Rose will be having a vision every chapter, but I promise you, it won't happen again for a while, and definitely not as frequently, now that she's met the eight most vision-worthy elves in all of Arda. When you can see the future, your visions can only get better from there... right?

(nah)  
note: i realized that i used the ambarussa's sindarin names by accident. this is what happens when i decide it'd be fun to write 2,000+ words at midnight, and then forget to edit. so i have fixed it, sorry about that!


	4. author's note

I edited some stuff in the intro and the prologue! Chapter two should be here soon, too!


End file.
